When He Reads To Me

48. Milo

Chapter 48

Milo

“It’s always for her.”

I can feel the eyes on me.

I’m used to it, to be honest.

I’ve dressed for the occasion, so all the looks I am receiving right now are warranted. It’s a black tie event, and I’m dressed in a black suit, with a black button-up and black tie. Black on black. I didn’t own a suit, but I went out and purchased one.

I got the heads up that she was attending; I was not going to attend. I get invited to all this type of shit; but I never go.

But she is coming.

So I will, too.

For her .

Morris stands next to me, dressed similarly, but he is wearing a white shirt.

I spot Lissie the minute I enter—it’s hard not to recognize beauty when you see it. Especially hers.

People talk to Lissie and constantly touch her, giving her hugs and gripping her hands to say congratulations on her house. I want to stalk over and pull her body to mine and wrap my arms around her. Instead, I stay where I am.

“Are you planning to say hello?” Morris asks. “I saw her yesterday.”

My gaze flicks to his.

“You know I don’t really blame her for what happened to Letti. I do actually like her.”

A small woman approaches us, holding out two drinks and offering them to us. “Hey, I’m Stephanie. I worked on Lissie’s house.”

“I’m—” She waves me off. “I already know who you are. Do you plan to gawk at her all night or go and say hello?”

Morris coughs, and I turn to see him covering his smile.

“She’s talking,” I reply, and she looks over her shoulder before she turns back to me.

“She looks beautiful in that dress, right? Look at that man in front of her, eyeing her. Kind of like what you’re doing right now.”

“I’ll just be…” Morris mumbles before he walks off.

“Now, Mr. Savage, I suggest you go and talk to her.” She turns and goes to the next person to mingle with them.

I grip the glass of champagne in my hand as I scan the room for Lissie. She moved, and her back is now to me as she talks to someone else. How different she is now from the quiet mouse to standing here mingling with people, and they all love her. Most know her or at least know of her. She is a hard one to miss in this town, even when she was married to that fuckhead. I stare as she flicks her hair over her shoulder before she turns around, and those eyes find me. She smiles. It’s soft, but it’s gone just as quickly as it came. Then, she turns back around to continue her conversation.

“Just tell her you love her,” Morris says, coming back beside me.

“What?”

“You loved her before she even met her husband, Savage. Tell her you love her,” he says, then walks off.

Elizabeth turns around and faces me, and my gaze follows her as she walks past a few guys who all check her out. I grip the glass tighter and remind myself not to kill anyone for looking at her.

She is beautiful.

Deadly so.

Her white heels click louder the closer she gets to me, and I notice I’m alone.

She stops in front of me, glances at the glass in my hand, and then meets my eyes.

“Do you intend to say hello?” she asks.

“Hello.”

My favorite color has always been the color of her eyes. For a long time, I believed black to be my favorite color—simple, elegant, and powerful. But all that changed the moment I gazed into Elizabeth’s eyes. Their depth and vibrancy caught me off guard and captured me completely. I couldn’t look away and still can’t. It is like her eyes hold the whole world and shimmer with emotions and untold stories. From the day I first glanced into those eyes, there is nothing that can match their beauty.

“You came. I didn’t think I would see you at a function like this. I know this isn’t your scene.” She turns to leave, but I reach for her wrist. Everyone else has been touching her, so I should be able to do the same. Her gaze shoots to my hand on her wrist before it raises her eyes to mine.

I step a little closer, still holding her, and lean down to her ear. I take in her scent—clean, fresh, sweet—before I whisper, “You look beautiful. So much so that I’m hard from a simple look, and I haven’t even touched you yet.”

Lissie sucks in a breath, pulling at her wrist, and I let it go.

“Not that type of touch,” I tell her, stepping back.

Her cheeks flush pink, and I lift the glass, putting it to my lips.

“I have to go and see what Stephanie has planned for the evening, to see if she needs any help,” she manages to say.

“Tell men to stop touching you.”

“No. I’m not yours. It’s not your place to give that kind of order,” she bites out, and that’s when I realize her fire is back.

“But you are, and you know it. You just have to get over the fact that you’re mad at me, Elizabeth.”

“I’m always mad at you, and must you insist on calling me that? You know I prefer Lissie.” I hide my laugh. Her anger toward me is one of my favorite things.

“You may prefer your friends to call you that, but we both know the truth…” He pauses for dramatic effect. “I’m not your fucking friend.” Her brows raise, but she doesn’t say anything back.

No. I am not her friend.

I am fucking way more than that.

“Maybe you should accompany me. If other men touching me bothers you so much,” she challenges.

I set the glass down on the table behind me, then place my hand on the small of her back. “You lead the way.”

She does, and my hand remains on her back as she mingles. A few people go in to hug her, but she makes no move to step away from my touch. Men hold back from touching her, which I’m thankful for, but I am sure it’s recognition of who I am that stops them. And I would hate to kill someone just to have her angry at me again, though I would do it. I don’t care!

“And who is this?” one lady asks.

“This is Milo. Milo, this is my mentor, Amanda, who helped me start a new business.”

“I’m sure it was easy. Elizabeth is very clever,” I say to the lady.

Lissie moves just a little until her body is touching mine. I take that invitation and wrap my arm around her waist, holding her to me.

“It was. My best student so far. You make sure you treat her well. I’d have her back any day of the week,” she says before moving on to another group.

The evening was pleasant, and I met a number of people who I hadn’t seen before, but the time spent with Lissie was a bonus.

Most people have started to leave, and only family and friends are left mingling now. Lissie turns in my arms, her hands sliding up my chest.

“This was nice, you, here.”

“It was only nice because I could touch you.”

“I’m glad you came. I was sick of being touched by other people.” She smirks.

“But my touch?” I squeeze her hip, and she locks her eyes on me.

“Is welcome.”

“Arghhh. Hate to interrupt, but we’re wondering where we can continue the party.”

My men and Stephanie are the only ones left now.

“I have a babysitter tonight, so I plan to get fucked-up,” Stephanie says, and Lissie laughs into my shoulder.

“Fucked-up?” I raise a brow.

“Yes. Momma needs some alcohol and a good time.” She holds up one of the bottles of wine and looks at Lissie. “If that’s not too unprofessional.”

“I plan to take off these heels and then pass out, but you all go. Have fun.” I squeeze her to me as she tries to pull away. “We can catch up tomorrow,” she says, attempting again to pull away. I look at Morris. “Take everyone to the bar. Put it on my tab.”

Stephanie cheers before they turn to leave.

I release my hold on Lissie, and she places one hand on my arm to steady herself before she lifts one foot and pulls off the heel. She does the same with the other, leaving both on the floor and her feet bare.

“Are you not going with them?” Lissie questions.

“Now, why would I do such a thing when what I want is standing in front of me?”

She gives me a small smile before she picks up her shoes and then collects her purse. “So… where we going?”

I glance at her dress and then raise my eyes back to her face. “As much as I want you on the back of my bike in that dress, I drove my car.”

“So unlike you,” she teases.

“Yes, it’s my other lady,” I tell her.

“Let me guess, your bike is the main lady.”

“Nope. You are.”

When we get outside, she scans the parking lot, and I assume she is looking for my car. But I have a few cars, and tonight, I drove an all-black 1967 Ford Mustang. I’ve had her for a while, and over time, I’ve restored her to the beauty she is today. Nothing will replace my bike as number two, but my Mustang is a sure third.

“Milo.” My name leaves Lissie on a breath as she walks to the car. I open the door for her, and she gazes up at me as she settles in the seat. “I’d love for you to fuck me on it.”

“You don’t have to say it twice,” I tell her, shutting the door and walking around to the driver’s side. I drive like fucking crazy back to my place. As soon as we get there, I get out, leaving the headlights on. I open her car door, and she takes my hand so I can help her out. Leading her to the front of the car, the hood still warm from the drive, I slide my hands down the front of her.

“Are you still mad at me?” I ask, leaning in but not letting my mouth touch her. She’s eager for me to kiss her. I can tell by the way her chest rises to meet mine, but I hover, not closing the last bit of distance between us.

“Yes,” she answers.

“Why?”

“You lied to me, kept something from me,” she tells me honestly. “Why would you do that?”

“Because at first you couldn’t handle the truth. And then it came down to knowing you were better than being stuck in this town.”

“Are you saying you aren’t?” Her eyes narrow, and I lift her chin so our lips are close.

“Compared to you, no. I made you read to me to be around you, and I’d do anything to be around you.”

She blows out a breath I didn’t know she was holding. “Milo.”

I let my hand leave her chin and drag down her body.

“I’m not mad at you anymore, though my heart still hurts.” She pauses, and I lean in to kiss her, but she stops me by pulling back and placing a hand to my lips.

“She didn’t die because of you. And he had to die. That asshole was scum, the way he—” I shake my head at the thought of him hurting her in any way.

“I know. I went to a bit of therapy after, and I should probably go back, but I see now it’s not all my fault. My love isn’t cursed.” Her legs squeeze me as I stand between her thighs. “But you already knew this, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did. Your heart just looked for love in all the fucking wrong places.”

I kiss her. I have to. It’s not a want. It’s an urge I know I can’t stop. I’ve loved her since the first time I saw her, and I will love her for as long as she’ll let me.

Her arms circle around me, and I pull her close. She comes willingly, her white dress sliding on the car as I join our bodies together. Our lips smash against each other, and she lets me take what I need from her without any hesitation or fight.

She was made for me.

And despite this life I never chose, I’m grateful for it.

Because without it, I wouldn’t have had her.

And Lissie is all I have ever wanted.

In this life and the next.